it.

She grew calm; she would wait here until the storm had passed. A sense
of well-being stole over her, and although the thunder continued to
rumble and the rain came down in a deluge, and the wind whistled through
the trees, and the unchained tempest went on its mad way through the air
and on the earth, she felt safe in her little hut. Then she made a
pillow for her head from the underbrush, and stretching herself out, she
fell asleep.

When she awoke the thunder had stopped, but the rain was still falling
in a fine drizzle. The forest, with its solitude and silence, did not
terrify her. She was refreshed from her long sleep and she liked her
little cabin so much that she thought she would spend the night there.
She at least had a roof over her head and a dry bed.

She did not know how long she had slept, but that did not matter; she
would know when night came.

She had not washed herself since she had left Paris, and the dust which
had covered her from head to foot made her skin smart. Now she was
alone, and there was plenty of water in the ditch outside and she would
profit by it.

In her pocket she had, beside her map and her mother's certificate, a
few little things tied up in a rag. There was a piece of soap, a small
comb, a thimble, and a spool of thread, in which she had stuck two
needles. She undid her packet; then taking off her vest, her shoes, and
her stockings, she leaned over the ditch, in which the water flowed
clear, and soaped her face, shoulders and feet. For a towel she had only
the rag she had used to tie up her belongings, and it was neither big
nor thick, but it was better than nothing.

This _toilette_ did her almost as much good as her sleep. She combed her
golden hair in two big braids and let them hang over her shoulders. If
it were not for the little pain in her stomach, and the few torn places
in her shoes, which had been the cause of her sore feet, she would have
been quite at ease in mind and body.

She was hungry, but there was nothing she could do. She could not find a
bit of nourishment in this cabin, and as it was still raining, she felt
that she ought not to leave this shelter until the next day.

Then when night came her hunger became more intense, till finally she
began to cut some twigs and nibble on them, but they were hard and
bitter, and after chewing on them for a few minutes she threw them away.
She tried the leaves; they went down easier.

While she ate her meal